Cold As Ice
by XrhiaX
Summary: S1 Zutara Songfic to 'Cold As Ice' by Foreigner. The cure to writer's block is often a healthy dose of Zutara.


_You're as cold as ice_

Prince Zuko's grip on the waterbending girl's bound wrists was tight and unforgiving as he frowned hard, pulling out of the unexpected kiss she had pressed to him. He'd answered it back just as humbly as she'd offered it, but now he regretted it. He let go of her and stepped back as if she were diseased or dangerous. He was on his guard now; she'd had to have done that to get him distracted.

"This doesn't change anything, waterbender. The Avatar is mine."

_You're willing to sacrifice our love_

Katara let her face twist into pure disgust. She wasn't stupid, and she knew he loved her back. She was grateful for the fact that they were alone in the brig, deep in the bowels of his ship, not a guard or soldier in sight. She couldn't meet his golden gaze anymore; it was painfully harsh and impossible to reason with. The kiss had been soft and tender, yet passionate and powerful, the both of them fighting for dominance over each other in a fair battle despite Katara's tied wrists and ankles. To capture Aang, he would betray and fight her. He would do anything for the Avatar.

_You never take advice._

And his uncle, day after day tried to make him see the wonder and beauty in a life outside of chasing the Avatar, was ignored and shrugged off as if he were telling him that the sky were green. He wouldn't listen; the only way he could ever go home was to capture the Avatar, and if that made him a cold, heartless person, then so be it. Zuko crossed his arms, deep in thought. No words were exchanged as Katara scrutinized every molecule of his being in a quick glance, trying to see into his head what it was that was making him so determined to catch Aang, even at the expense of the love between them. Her breath came out ragged and hitched as she searched her mind for something to say.

_Someday you'll pay the price, I know._

He'd pay. Whether it was under her bending power or the betrayal of his father and unscrupulous sister, he would pay the price one day. His own family would betray him like the horrid creatures they were and he would regret the moment he'd thrown away the only affection he'd gotten from anyone other than his uncle.

_You want paradise_

Oh, but he wanted the throne. He wanted it badly enough to throw away any speck of humanity or feeling in his cold, dark, black soul. He wanted his gold-trimmed royal armor and his four-poster draped bed, and his beautiful, silent, opinionless bride, and his pampered royal children. He wanted his royal treasury and an annual vacation to Ember Island, and a family of his own that shared no feelings or love or affection to one another. Just like his father and mother shared no love, and just as Ozai shared no love with his children, that would be his life. Paradise in hell.

_Someday you'll pay the price, I know._

_I've seen it before, it happens all the time_

_You're closing the door, you leave the world behind._

So he wouldn't love. He wouldn't care or cry or get angry, because all there was in his gray world was determination. He would brood in his bedroom on nights alone, thinking about ambush strategies and fantasizing about the idyllic, emotionless life that would one day be his. If his uncle asked him to join music night on the deck, he would refuse as if the idea was pure hogwash. He wouldn't fall in love, because emotion was not in the mapped out life ahead of him.

_You're digging for gold, but throwing away_

_A fortune in feelings, but someday you'll pay_

Zuko turned his back to her and stalked toward the door. He paused with his hand on the latch. "I'm not a fool. I'm insulted that you thought I'd fall for that." He glanced over his shoulder.

"No, Zuko." Katara growled under her breath and let her eyes burn into the back of his head. "You are a fool. And someday you'll pay."

_You're as cold as ice._

_

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_**A/N: Because this song was totally made for them in season one. Don't ask why I know this song; it was written before I was born. Call me old-fashioned.**


End file.
